


Flash Powder and Cigarette paper.

by Pups_Side_Box (Puppyinabox)



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Aphenphosmphobia, Heartman gets pegged(implied), Lou is carried in one of those front baby backpacks cause she likes it there, Lucy meant well but also oof, Multi, Past Rape/Non-con, Post Ending, Rating May Change, Scars, Trans Male Character, Trauma, dadman, deadman is insecure, everyone is doing their fucking best, fragile and mama making it work, post death stranding, probably not best to fuck your therapist, sam and deadman making it work, sam is not ok but he’s doing his best, she likes being tall, that’s completely unrelated to the plot but it’s true, trans Sam Porter Bridges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23017783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puppyinabox/pseuds/Pups_Side_Box
Summary: It takes a village to raise a child, or maybe just a retired mailman and a semi-undead scientist.
Relationships: Fragile/Mama (Death Stranding), Sam Porter Bridges & Deadman, Sam Porter Bridges/Deadman
Comments: 20
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this household we  
> -love and respect deadman and sam  
> -project insecurities and trauma onto them
> 
> Flashbacks in italics.

“How have you and Lou been Sam?” Deadman’s chyralgram smiled,

“Very well. She’s crawling, which is… amazing but means I gotta make sure things are out of her reach.” Sam held Lou in his arms. She turned to look at Deadman’s image and smiled, “yeah,” Sam cooed at her, “it’s D-man,” 

Deadman laughed softly, “die-hardm- The president was wondering when you might bring her by to meet everyone, well meet everyone again I suppose.”

“Oh, Deadman, I dont know-“

“Nothing bridges or federally related. Just a get together of old friends…” deadman trailed off then coughed, “for old time’s sake.”

Sam hummed, “I’ll think about it, make sure John knows I dont want to work for him anymore, I’m done.”

“I get that, I’d give this up if I knew anything else, well that’s not really true… things are different, there’s new challenges. Studying a post-near extinction world close up, I wouldn’t pass up that chance!”

“I’m glad you’ve found your calling there, man.”

“You’ve taken to fatherhood well…”

Sam blushed, “uh, thanks.” He cleared his throat, “so, uh, how’s heartman and everybody?”

“Heartman and Ms.Spade have anounced their engagement,”

“Yeah, I saw his email, good for them!”

“Yes, she treats him very well. Fragile and Malingen have taken an interest in one another.”

“Wait, what about lockne?”

“I- Hadn’t considered the implications of that…” deadman made a face, “but I’m sure they are able to work out boundaries, they have before.”

“Yeah, I guess so. How’s John?”

“The president…. He’s been seeing a counselor, it’s very good. He’s still, well, Clifford Unger-...”

“Yeah…. I… I get it.” Lou made a frustrated noise, “you tired, huh?”

“Have you been resting Sam?”

“Yeah, just, y’know, new baby and all… lou’s a little handful, curious as always.” Sam remembered how she’d peer out of the pod while they crossed the country. “Just part of parenting.”

“Still it’s… It’s a shame you are doing it alone.” Deadman watched as Sam gently placed Lou in the crib,

“I… yeah.”

“I could… um-... If you wanted I could come help. I’m sure they’d fair alright without me for a weekend, and the repair teams have been working well on the roads. No timefall means no crumbling roads.”

“How would you even get here?”

“By car, and mama has been thinking of designing a rail system”

“That’s… that’s cool. You know what actually, I think I’ll come by you. Been meaning to try out these new roads.”

“You- you plan to take your motor-trike?”

“Yeah, wait..”

“I dont know about you but I dont feel comfortable with you taking Lou that far with your motor-trike.”

“Yeah…” Sam chuckled, “I can maybe…”

“Fragile could jump you over.”

“That still works?”

“She, Mama, and Lockne worked out a way. Same way we’ve been able to keep these chyral grams.”

“That’s good. Would she be able to bring Lou?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll um.. I’ll pack some bags and come your way tomorrow?”

“Great!” Deadman smiled wide, “I’ll- I’ll tell everyone, thought you probably just want a quiet greeting and a nice sleep… I- I’ll be seeing you soon!”

“You too, D-man.” Sam smiled,

The nickname warmed Deadman, made him feel known, cared about.

Sam hung up and sighed. Lou made a soft noise in her crib and Sam smiled, letting her little hand curl around his index finger.

“Big day tomorrow, Louise. Get some rest.”

Sam didn’t sleep much, nodding off occasionally. He didn’t really sleep much before, not after Lucy, but he slept enough not to go mad or die. Enough that he didn’t pass out while delivering. But now with Lou he not only couldn’t sleep already but had more reason not to, he had to keep an eye on her, he had to make sure she she didn’t just suddenly stop breathing in her sleep, or make sure she didn’t manage to get out and hurt herself in their little home. She was just so small, and the odds were stacked against her since even before she left the pod, Sam was always scared that the time they’d borrowed would catch up to them.

It didn’t help that had happened before.

Fragile called before jumping into the room, the sound had been different than during the death standing, less of a fizz to the noise, it was more of a crackle like an electric shock than the sound of a can of soda being opened. 

“Sam,”

“Hey,”. Sam adjusted the carrier he had strapped to his chest before gently placing Lou inside, facing forward so she could peer around her surroundings. She waved at Fragile who gave a little wave back,

“How’ve you been?”

“Good, you?”

Fragile smiled and adjusted her cufflink, Sam noticed the detachable part, the blade part, was silver and appeared to be engraved,  
“I’m doing well.”

“Awesome,” Sam shifted his weight back and forth between his feet, “so, anything new I need to know about this?”

“Don’t think so. You and Louise should be-“

“Should be?”

“Poor choice of words, I apologize. You two will stay together because of your bond, there’s little chance of separation.”

“Ok… and this won't hurt her? Like, nothing will go wrong?”

“Nothing.” Fragile said, although she wasn’t sure.

The jump turned out fine, although it did make Lou fussy and Sam dizzy on reentry, but nothing that was unexpected. He and Lou and fragile stood in one of the private rooms in capitol knot, nothing like the room they’d left in Sam’s home yet familiar all the same.

“Deadman is most likely in his lab.” Fragile explained as she put closed her umbrella and clipped it to her belt, as a knight would a sword,

“How do you know I’m here for him?” Sam asked,

Fragile smiled, “because I know you.”

Sam laughed softly and shook his head, “you’ve been growing your business?”

They entered the elevator,

“Yes, with Malingen’s help with repairing the roads I’ve managed to set up quite a few solid routes. I’m trying to diminish my use of jumps for deliveries as much as possible now as we dont know fully if a jump can work as the beach becomes a further and further memory.”

Sam hummed as they rode the elevator up, 

“Working with Malingen and lockne, notice any differences?”

“Malingen is more hands on, she’s kinesthetic, and she likes concrete things and concepts. An engineer at heart.” Fragile’s tone held tenderness, “Lockne likes the abstract more. You can also tell who’s piloting by eye color, which… helps.”

“Yeah, I- uh. I’d hope so. Would be awkward…”

Fragile gave a tired laugh, “yeah, but we all manage, dont we?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey,” Sam knocked his knuckles on the doorframe to the smaller personal lab where Deadman was working. He was hunched over a table, slicing into a sample of muscle tissue with a scalpel, taking a thin sliver to examine under a microscope. He placed the dish with the sliver down and looked up. 

“Ah, sam!” He smiled and changed his gloves, then adjusted his glasses. He had on the red lab suit, it was just as sleek as ever, but somehow the red in it seemed almost brighter, more vibrant, “I trust the journey was calm?”

“A quick and easy jump thanks to Fragile,” as Sam spoke Lou stirred awake. Deadman smiled at her and let her wrap a tiny hand around his pinky finger,

“Wonderful.” He said softly, looking up from Lou to Sam’s face. A moment caught, like the second before repatriation almost. It was less drastic, but just as tight. Less tight however in the sense of one gripping to a ledge for dear life and more like gripping someone’s hand in an attempt to console.  
Yearning.

Sam cleared his throat and broke the eye contact, “so um… what’re you working on?”

Deadman swiftly stepped back to his work space, gesturing, “studying cell death and decay in corpses after the end of the death stranding. Because necrosis caused BTs before we couldn’t study dying cells well, and quite a bit of data was lost in the death stranding. I’m comparing what I find to previous research to see if in the immediate wake of near extinction there are any changes to the process of death.”

“Neato.” Sam said simply. He understood enough of what Deadman had said, “it’s alright I have Lou in here with me, right?”

“Of course, I put away any harmful or dangerous after we agreed to your visit,” deadman explained, “no chemicals within reach to knock over.”

“You baby proofed the lab?”

“Of course.” Deadman said once again.

He’d changed his home, his work space, without sam asking. The gesture carried the message, “make yourself at home. My home is yours,” it carried the notion that they may even be a family.

Sam didn’t let that thought get too far. Not since the last few times.

“Right, uh…” 

Deadman seemed to wilt a little, but focused on his work a but and he seemed better, “so… how long do you mean to stay?”

“Few days? A weekend maybe? It’s weird to say that… so used to days just being days, now certain days are for certain things again? It’s weird.”

“I suppose our human understanding of time has always been weird.” 

It was good when deadman included himself in humanity. It bothered sam when he’d talk about himself like he was a thing, like he was a monster. He and sam both knew full well how often monsters were people and how people were monsters. 

They hadn’t really been very human when they’d met, they’d been members of a dying species, not quite rational. Almost as two animals in a zoo made by some higher being in a shadow of empathy, huddling together to share secrets and breath. They’d been scrambling on borrowed time from the start, and the thought slowly crept into Sam’s mind that now especially that time was not borrowed, it was stolen.  
When would the other shoe drop?

“Yeah uh…” sam felt his breath catch in his throat, his heart raced with the sudden panic that set into his mind.

“Are you ok, Sam?”

‘Tell me what’s triggered this.’ She’d said,

‘Can’t… can’t breathe. Can’t breathe enough to explain.’

‘Breathe with me.’ She’d commanded, and he complied. And his breath slowed to almost nothing compared to the hyperventilation he’d subjected his lungs to a moment before, yet it soothed.

‘You’ve just had a panic attack, Sam. Can you help me figure out why?’

Sam had let his thoughts go off on a tangent again. She’d touched over a handprint, not one of a BT. An invisible set of brands on the insides of his thighs, his knees, his lower back-

Her fingers had just brushed, just the fingertips, yet the pain that they came with felt like she’d clamped her hand around, dug her nails in. Like she’d torn and burned into his flesh. 

‘I-... don’t tell… don’t tell Bridget.’

‘Of course not Sam,’ Lucy said, ‘Doctor patient confidentiality and all.’

‘It was… it was a long time ago, I shouldn’t- I didn’t think I’d still get that shaken about it, y’know?’

She nodded, taking notes.

“Sam?” Deadman’s eyebrows were furrowed, his tone pinched with concern and fear, Sam, almost distantly, heard Lou crying

“What?”

“You… were quiet for a while, your breathing was too fast.” Deadman was holding Lou, she slowly stopped crying while Sam got his bearings,

“Lou…”

“She got scared, I- I didn’t know what to do so I held her. I didn’t know if i should have held you…”

“Yeah- uh… that um… would’ve probably been bad.”

“Oh…”

“Um.” Sam gingerly took Louise back and placed her back in the carrier strapped to his once heaving chest.

“What happened?” Deadman stood close, not too close though, how kind of him. “We were-... if you dont want to stay long because of… uh… because of the president? I’d understand. I can organize for a car to take you back to-“

“No- no just-“ Sam gripped Deadman’s wrist, “I-... ugh. I went down a rabbit hole.” Sam gestured to his head, “remembered things.”

“Such as?”

Sam pressed his lips into a fine line,

Talking was supposed to help. People said that, told him that all the time, talking helped. Talking through the problems. Lucy told him that. How come, then, when he talked about it it all flowed back in? If this was progress why did it burn again?

‘I was- um… I was thirteen.’

‘I see.’  
No she didn’t. She wanted to though, see his brain, help fix it. She meant well.

‘He was a guard. Kept his gloves on, with the armored knuckles… hurt when he backhanded me.’

Sam’s hands trembled and he let go of Deadman’s wrist, “just… stuff.”

“You know you can tell me… right?”

“Of course… um… I’m gonna turn in for the night,”

“It’s five o’clock.”

“Lou’s tired.”

“Ok, rest well, sam.” Deadman said softly with a hint of something Sam couldn’t place.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal thingy cause i like oversharing:  
> I ALMOST CUT OFF MY FUCKING FINGERTIP TRYING TO CUT A BAGEL IN HALF THIS MORNING!!!  
> My sister called me talking about SCP and I just wanted my bagel!

The night was restless. Sam didn’t miss the stick of the rubber sheets in the private room in Capital Knot and so he used two sweatshirts as a blanket and set Lou, swaddled, on the bed’s rectangular pillow. He leaned against the bed, sat on the floor. He occasionally nodded off but remained awake, keeping an eye on Lou, or that’s what he told himself. 

He eventually, however, passed out for an hour at around five AM, when he woke up he half expected to have to uncuff himself from the bedframe. He reached for where it would be hooked only to find nothing. Sam huffed, letting his hand fall back at his side. The shift against the bedframe stirred Lou awake. She made a tired noise and Sam brought her to his shoulder, tiredly patting her back.

“Sh… I know… I know. Didn’t quite miss this room.”

The walk to the hospital where Deadman did his research was short, but nice. There were more trees put up in the city, the big overhang meant to protect the sidewalks from timefall now abandoned in favor of sunlight. There weren't many other people walking around, many people still reasonably anxious about whether or not the death stranding would begin again. Most of the few people who Sam passed would smile at Lou and give him a short nod. He blended in, just another dad, and it felt good. Not making a fuss, finally getting to settle.

“Hey, where would I find uh… Deadman?”

“Oh, he’s on break.”

Sam didn't think he took breaks, not often, 

“Sam Porter Bridges” the receptionist asked,

“Just Sam Bridges.”

“I see. He said you may come looking for him.”

“Most people seem to know I'm gonna be somewhere before I do, huh?”

The receptionist shrugged, “he’s in the cafeteria, there’s signs leading the way.” she pointed off to the side down the hall.

The bustle inside the cafeteria was uncomfortable, and the amount of red and white uniforms against the bright white walls made his head hurt a bit. Sam managed to find Deadman sitting at a table by himself near the door at the other end of the cafeteria. Sam looked around, no one stared at Deadman for being alone, but also no one looked at him, as if avoiding him. Old habits, however rude, did die-hard, he supposed. Sam came over to the table and nodded at Deadman,

“This seat taken?” He asked,

“Sam,” deadman smiled, “and no. Feel free to join me.”

Sam found a booster seat, wiped it down with a sanitizer wipe to be sure, and set Lou in it next to his seat at the table.

“Sorry I uh… ditched you yesterday.”

“It’s alright I-“ Deadman sighed, “it was a bit disappointing but I understand.”

“I… got caught up in the fact you baby-proofed your whole fucking lab without me asking you to…”

“You… didn’t want me to? I can, i mean I can put my things back if you-“

“No i mean like… it’s a really nice gesture, thanks. It was a nice surprise.”

“A nice surprise that made you panic?” Deadman set his fork down, “Sam are you ok?”

“I’m alright, just… just tired.”

“You’ve always been tired, sam…” the way Deadman had said it was gentle but seemed to rattle around Sam’s skull.  
You’ve always BEEN tired, sam.

“New baby and all…”

“Sam.” Deadman squared his shoulders, “you can stay with me if you’d like, I know the private rooms aren’t the most comfortable places to stay and I haven a guest room. I’m sure the little one would appreciate a nicer place too.”

“I dont wanna impose-“

“I’m inviting you.”

Oh  
“Oh, uh-“

“If you dont want to i understand, and it’s fine just-“

“No uh… thanks. I’ll think about it.”

“I’m gonna get Lou some cereal to eat,”

“Alright, I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thanks.”

Sam wouldn’t really trust any one else to watch Lou, especially in such a crowded place, but it was different with deadman, maybe because he’d watched her before in times of peril. Deadman had kept her safe in a battlefield. When he’d found Lou and Deadman in that sewer he’d been so happy to see them safe, alive. Sam wondered if that was the moment that tied them all together, or if they’d been bound since even before then, before they’d even known eachother even. Fated. Sam shook his head and carried the tray that held a small bowl of cereal and a paper cup of coffee that was more milk and sugar than coffee. The coffee only present for the way it barely tinted the milk and sugar’s flavor and color and the caffeine it carried. Sam sat down, placing the bowl on the tray in front of Lou. Sam wrapped his fingers around the mug, pleased by the warmth,

“The timefall- well I suppose they’re just farmers now… they’ve been trying to get some of the frozen chicken embryos that we found when we re-connected the network to get a solid flock of chickens, they’re working with the zoologist unit here to get a viable set of pseudo-eggs to carry the chicks.” Deadman chatted, 

Lou giggled, playing with her cereal,

Deadman smiled at her, “we’re rebuilding.”

“‘M glad.” Sam said, taking a sip of his coffee, “how’s you’re uh, your decay thing going?”

“Well, I’ve examined samples donated from a citizen that died a few weeks ago, fragile didnt detect any trace of BT necrosis, just a perfectly normal and perfectly safe corpse.”

“Like Malingen?”

“No, this body still went through the stages of stopping, the stomach gasses expanding and the bowels rended. But no tar.”

Sam nodded, ignoring how gross that still was, he was interested.

“I’m comparing it to some readings from biopsied tissue samples during the death stranding. I’m finding a correlation between chyrilium in the cells at the time of death with BT necrosis.”

“So, cause the chyrilium was in the air it made BTs?”

“I’m not sure. It may just be a coincidence, or they may be caused by the same thing that I have yet to find, like ice cream sales and cicadas mating…”

“What?”

“Oh! False causation based in correlation,” Deadman lit up as he explained the statistical terms, “in the summer more people buy ice cream because it’s hot, and at the same time when it’s hotter cicada’s breed more, without the knowledge that the two stem from heat one my theorize they stem from eachother.”

“Ice cream truck jingles and cicada calls.”

“Precisely.”

Sam smiled softly, “so chyrilium in our cells and the BTs are both caused by the same thing?”

“Most likely, I mean, Malingen’s body was full of chyrilium and didn’t decay at all.”

“So wait, this guy that died, no chyrilium in their cells?”

“Nope, and I took some samples from my own cells, cheek swab, clear too.”

“That’s… weird.”

“Uh-huh.” Deadman nodded. He rested his chin in his hand, his fingers except for his index and thumb curled, and he thought. He idly nibbled at the seam between the fingers of his gloves. It caught Sam’s eyes. For the first time he noticed them, nestled between stark white teeth. Golden, or rather gilded, Chiral teeth. A molar and a canine, worrying at black leather. Part of sam thought about reaching out and touching them, his other hand cupping Deadman’s cheek. Maybe Deadman would catch his hand between his teeth. Would he hold him gingerly, like a mother holding a cub? Or would his jaws clench, the tendons and musculature in Sam’s hand straining and twitching, like a salmon thrashing in a bear’s maw.

“Sam?” Deadman asked, startling Sam out of his staring,

“Yeah, huh?”

“I asked if you’d seen the city garden yet, and you were really quiet and breathing quickly like earlier.” Deadman’s face was lined with concern,

“Oh, I haven’t gotten the chance to see it yet, no.”

“I see, well it’s just starting out, but the trees are nice. It’s good to take this city out from the shadows.” Deadman got quiet and his shoulder tightened, “if you’d like we could go see them, if you have time.”

“I’ve got all the time in the world now, buddy.” Sam said, “it’ll be good for Lou to see some more plants.”

“You havent been holding yourselves up in a bunker since we you came back from the incinerator, have you?”

He hadn’t meant to, he didn’t want Lou to grow up not knowing the sun, he knew what that did to a person from reading Higgs’s journal. But he got scared the rain was one day gonna take him, make Lou and orphan, or worse.  
There was always worse.

“The garden sounds good.” Sam said plainly, dodging Deadman’s question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about Deadman maybe having some false/replaced teeth, and then i got kinda horny about it, yeehaw.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance that this one is super short and super edgy.
> 
> Higgs gets mentioned.  
> He’s dead.

“I can join you once I finish documenting these results, shouldn’t take longer than half an hour.”

“Cool, I’ll meet you in front of the hospital? I’m gonna wander a bit.”

“Alright.”

As Sam walked around he found a lounge. He took a seat and looked around until he saw Fragile sitting in a chair reading something off of her cufflink. She looked up and saw him, then got up to take the seat beside him, 

“Hey, what’re you up to here?”

“Seeing Deadman, he mentioned the garden that’s in the works, so we’re gonna go take a look.”

“Sounds lovely.” Fragile smiled,

“How come you’re here?”

“Regular check-ups. Cryptobiotes have been becoming more and more scarce, probably because they were evolved for the DS environment, not this one. Deadman and some doctors are working to try to find an alternative for me.” Fragile fiddled with her gloves, “mama’s worried. I try not to show it to her, but I am too.”

Sam nodded, “I’m sure it’ll be ok. You’re strong.”

“Thank you sam, that means a lot coming from the man who walked across America, alone.”

Sam groaned, “i dont wanna be known for that, I’m just trying to focus on taking care of Lou now.”

Fragile nodded, “I understand. Having a reputation, it’s… tough to carry.”

They didn't talk about Higgs, maybe they should’ve. Maybe they should’ve talked about Amelie too. But then again, talking just dragged up things you wished to forget. Those two had messed up such a huge part of their lives, like two monster-trucks plowing over a compact vehicle. Fragile hadn’t worn her gloves when she’d fought Higgs and handed him the gun, but she did wear them now. For business reasons, probably, not wanting to scare anyone off. 

“You’re going to the garden with Deadman?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No reason, just…”. Fragile smiled, “I think you’ll like it.”

“I think so too.”

“Do you ever…” fragile trailed off and sighed, “do you ever miss it? The walk, the danger? The metallic stench in the air before rain or tar?”

Sam frowned, his hand reflexively coming to rest against the carrier, holding Lou close, “I guess…. it’s messed up, but… at least I dreamed then.”

“You’ve not been dreaming?”

“No.”

Fragile hummed, “have you been sleeping?”

Sam sighed, “no.”

“Well that would do it.” Fragile crossed her arms and sat back, “Mama and I haven’t been able to sleep well either, Neither has Lockne.”

“Maybe it’s an after effect of DOOMs? Like now that it’s gone we’re still not normal?”

Fragile sighed, “i dont know, I haven’t asked Heartman yet, haven’t had the chance.”

“Wonder how he sleeps, dying every twenty minutes… he still do that?”

“His heart’s too damaged not to at this point.”

“Damn…”

“When Malingen and I have been sleeping the dreams have been… odd. And bad.”

“How do you mean?”

“I’ve had nightmares about waking up on the beach, or worse, waking up and everything we did to fix things was undone, or never happened, or didnt work.”

Sam brought another hand up to hold Lou,

“In some of them, it’s Higgs, and he’s got a gun held to Malingen’s head… or her belly… in others it’s Amelie and she has a baby and she looks me in the eye and…” Fragile unclenches her fists with a sigh, “and snap’s their neck.”

Sam winced, “Christ…”

“Yeah…”

“Lucy… Jesus….” sam held his face in his hands, “Lucy had nightmares about our kid being born a BT… among other things. She um… she took her life because of them.” Lou started to cry and sam realized he’d been squeezing her, “oh- shit… sssh Lou it’s ok…”

Fragile gave him a worried look, “I’m sure they’re not prophecy, just fear.”

Sam hoped they were just fear.

“You should sleep sam.”

“I’ve gotta keep an eye on Lou…”

“Let someone help you then, at least…”

“Fragile, I-“

“Look.” Fragile rubbed her knees then stood, “Deadman wants to help you, when I’m here for my check ins he talks incessantly about how he’s worried for you.” Fragile paused, “and worried for Lou. You’ve forged a family there, Sam, don’t ignore it.”

“He- what?”

“It’s not my story to tell, Sam.” Fragile frowned, “and I’d already given away too much.”

“What’s with the secrets around here?” Sam stood up, “thought everybody said no more masks.”

“It’s not like that Sam.” 

“What-“

“Just give him time.”

Sam frowned, not understanding, “fine… I’m gonna… I’m gonna go meet Deadman out front now.”

Fragile smiled, “I won’t keep you then. Have fun.”

When he walked out of the hospital he saw Deadman standing and waiting, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He wasn’t in the red Lab uniform anymore, just his black suit and red shirt, ever present black leather gloves wrapped around his broad hands like a second skin. His shoes shined in the afternoon sun, reflective yet dark, like obsidian. Like tar.

“Sam!” Deadman said brightly, “shall we?”

Sam nodded, “saw Fragile in there,” he turned his head to the hospital, “how’s she doing?”

“Her condition is… stable, but we’re worried that once we run out of cryptobiotes she may decline… we’re trying to synthesize whatever is in them that helps keep the time-fall’s effects at bay.”

Sam hummed,

“It’ll hopefully all work out… I Thought all this was over.”

It’s never really over. Even after the cut heals there’s always a scar. And a memory.

“It’ll be over, just keep working at it, y’know?” Sam attempted to reassure him

“Yeah…” they started walking, Deadman’s shoes clicking on the pavement. Sam liked how they clicked, compared to how his worn boots thudded. Sam liked how even during the apocalypse Deadman insisted on some semblance of style, of luxury. Maybe not as extravagant as Heartman’s lab, but he kept his shoes clean. 

Sam wanted to help keep them clean, keep the dirt of the world away from them. Keep the monsters away from Deadman. Kiss him better.

But there weren’t any monsters anymore, save for the memories of them, so what then would be the point? And how would he be received? In times of desperation it’s easy to come together. Easy to share yearning stares underneath a battlefield, to hug with a dead baby between you, hoping that the bond would fix things. 

Reaching out was different from reaching forward, and surviving was different from living.  
From being alive.

The trees were verdant green, and there were some rose bushes along the outside of the garden. They weren’t in full bloom, just buds, but they were roses all the same. Red and blue roses, the strains alternating. They strolled around, idly stopping to look at things. Deadman stopped at a blue rose bush and gently held a bud between his fingers, examining it.

“Roses.” Sam said,

“It’s odd they’re able to grow here… they’re so sensitive, you know.” Deadman brushed his thumb against the blue bud before letting it go, “not like the sunflowers.”

“Sunflowers?”

“This way,”

Sam followed Deadman to a clearing that was full of rows and rows of sunflowers,

“They clean the soil.” Deadman explained, “pulling toxins out of it, leaving most of the nutrients. They planted sunflowers after the Chernobyl disaster, they were able to scrub out some of the radiation. There were sunflowers back there before there were roses. They…” deadman smiled at same, “they pave the way for the softer ones. The-...” he looked at the ground, “the weaker ones.”

Sam frowned and hesitantly brought a hand to Deadman’s shoulder, half afraid he’d crumble like dust if he pushed too hard,  
“What’s the point of a garden with just the same kinds of flowers, though? Just roses? Or just sunflowers? A garden is different things all coming together into something nice… something beautiful.”

Deadman smiled after a moment and said, “Have you taken up poetry?”

Sam laughed, “nah, just… thinking.”

Deadman hummed and they continued to wander the garden. There were some community vegetable plants, tomatoes and squash, and some herbs. Deadman plucked a stem of rosemary and chewed on it, sam did the same. He was overwhelmed by the taste of it, the smell. Deadman didn’t seem to mind it at all,

“You get used to it,” he said, “they’re very nice once you’re used to them.’

“Yeah?”

Deadman nodded.  
Lou kicked a bit and sam brought a hand to her chest, 

“What’s up Lou?”

“Suppose it is getting rather late…” Deadman pointed out, pushing his glasses back up his face, “my- my offer- invitation still stands,”

Sam paused, the sprig of Rosemary still rested in Deadman’s mouth, pinched between his teeth. Once again he saw the glint of those Chiral fangs, they weren’t designed after fangs, they’d ere just normal teeth, but they still somehow sunk into Sam’s heart without even touching him.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Sam smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deadman has an oral fixation cause I said so.
> 
> Sam considers it a lot.(also leather, leather’s cool)
> 
> Also like uhhh 👉👈 could you maybe,,, comment on my works??? haha jkjkjk... unless?🥴


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: sam has a nightmare, there’s references to dysphoria and sexual violence.  
> (Also yeah sam is trans by the way.)

Deadman’s home was a rather nice apartment near the hospital, a short stroll. The building reminded Sam of old pictures of manhattan brownstones that he’d seen in books.

“Old style…” Sam said with a smile,

“Oh, yes. I can’t stand minimalism.” Deadman unlocked the door to his apartment. Inside resembled a but of Heartman’s lab, in that there were books lining the walls and some nice leather furniture. But it was more homey, less like a cold dark lair. The walls in the main room were a deep wine red, the carpet navy blue. On the coffee table was one of the books, splayed open, and a cup of tea that had been left forgotten. 

“I dont uh- mean to be rude asking this but,” sam looked around, “all this, did you live in Manhattan before the void out that took it out?”

“Hm? Oh- no.” Deadman picked up the mug of tea and walked towards the kitchen, the walls inside were a deep olive green, “Well in a sense I suppose in some way I did.”

“What do you mean?”

“The man I was cloned from, my ‘father’” he used air quotations, “may have. I dont know where he lived actually, he died long before I was even an idea, donated his DNA to the Library of congress for clone research.”

“Huh.”

“Yep.”

“So wait- how old are you?” Sam leaned against a counter,”

Deadman hummed, “probably… I’d say about thirty-nine, now.”

“You’re younger than I am.” Sam made a face,

Deadman laughed it off, “yes well, Dolly the sheep only lived the amount of years her predecessor had plus minus the years already lived when her DNA was taken… so I suppose I got a head start, of sorts.”

Sam frowned, he didn't like the idea of Deadman dying quicker, He felt like life had really only just started and now they were talking about death all over again.

“That’s cool I guess.” 

Deadman seemed to wilt again, “yeah…” he said, a pinch of nerves in his tone, “science and all…”

“I mean I just- Thought you were older than Bridget.” Sam paced, “you’re uh- wiser for your years, considering.”

“Yes well, I grew up-“ he chuckled a bit at the word ‘grew’, “in a lab, surrounded by lots of that sort of thing, and the doctor watching over my development gave me as much reading material as I could want.” Deadman darted around his kitchen, almost buzzing, “do you- uh, want some tea? Or coffee?”

“Coffee sounds good, um… lots of milk and sugar.”

“Sweet tooth?” Deadman smiled, flash of gold,

“Yeah…”

Deadman gently blew over his mug of herbal tea, sat across from Sam. Lou lay on the couch, fascinated by the feet of her onesie, beside Sam.

“I wouldn’t suggest caffeine so late, but to each their own.”

Sam took a sip from his mug, enjoying the smoothie milk and sharp sweetness of the sugar, “I like the buzz.”

Deadman hummed, worry lining his face,  
“Sam I really think that-“

“Who’ll watch Lou?” Sam cut him off, setting down his mug more forcefully they he’d intended. 

Deadman sat up straighter and squared his shoulders, “I was under the impression you knew I’d be willing to.”

“Deadman-“

“Sam, listen to me.” He leaned forward, “It’s bad for your health not to sleep, when was the last time you slept for eight hours?”

“I dont need a baby-sitter.”

“And Lou doesn’t need a sentinel. She needs a father, a well rested, healthy father.” Deadman hesitantly reached for Sam’s hand. He flinched away.

“I’m fine.”

“Sam…”

‘How have you been sleeping?’

‘Fine.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And the… the flashbacks?’

Sam winced. Her gaze could cut through steel, she for sure could see through him, see how he lied. He felt like he was being ripped open, examined, leered at. It felt like therapy sessions that came before, evaluating his entire identity, picking him apart for any evidence he could be wrong, any evidence just to be sure. It wasn’t enough he was born with the wrong parts, he had to have those parts under a microscope time and time again. Whether it was for the curiosity or greed of others.

‘Gone. The flashbacks are gone.”

‘Then the medication is working.’ She smiled  
Or maybe she didn't really see so sharply anymore…

“Please…” Deadman set his mug down gently onto a coaster,

“I-...”

“It’s scary?”

Sam was silent,

“I know how it feels to be afraid to shut your eyes, Sam.” Deadman stood up and began to pace, “you think all these scars are just from medicine? I may be functional, but the same cannot be said for my brothers and sisters. Some days I feared I may wake up and not be myself anymore, wake up and everything would simply be gone. Like I’d forget everything about the man I’d grown to be, my autonomy.” He trailed off, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt.

“I’m not scared of sleeping, I’m scared of the consequences.” Sam admitted.

“Then let us face those consequences together.” Deadman didn’t look at him, the invitation pinched in his chest. 

Sam looked at Deadman, stared at him. He looked so tired, or maybe he was just projecting. His hands worried at the button on his shirt sleeve as he paced, waiting for Sam’s answer.

“I’ll try.” Sam said, his throat tight. Deadman gave him a nod.

Sam still took the first shift watching Lou, getting her into a little makeshift crib and watching as she nodded off. She looked so peaceful, so quiet. She’d just started to grow hair, whispy and blonde on the crown of her head. A little halo around her.

After hours the blended together, however many Sam couldn’t tell, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. It jarred him from his numb stare and he turned to see Deadman standing over him, 

“It’s your turn.” He said softly.

Sam nodded, “I dont… I dont want to leave her.”

“Then I’ll watch you both.”

The water was supposed to be cold. It was cold every other time.  
Why wasn’t it cold?  
Why did it boil?

Amelie stood on the beach, blood poured from her eyes, and she held a baby. Lou cried. Sam screamed, though the water muted him and filled his mouth, salty and hot. Too hot. Too thick. The water was putrid, more tar than ocean. It bubbled and boiled around him, heating his already burning skin. It felt like hands all over him, hands twined in his hair, pulling his neck taut. Sam tried to slam his mouth shut but the current pried his mouth and throat open, too open. He trembled, down to his bones.

As he tried to swim to shore, tar forced its way down his throat. He felt hands on his shoulders, one bare, and calloused. He looked up and saw a gold mask, red blood smile painted on. To his other side was a blank mask, security helmet. Armored hands dug into that shoulder, just as bruising as before. Everything was so hot yet so dark, so blue.

They held him down as he boiled alive, as Amelie carried away a crying baby. 

“Give me back my baby!” He managed to scream out,

Higgs brought a finger up and hissed at him to be silent. The armored hand moved to shove his head down,

‘Now thats not exemplary behavior from a young lady, is it?’

There was an explosion behind him and he lurched forwards. Blinding light, cold as ice, enveloped him.

Sam sat up, he felt clammy. Deadman turned to him, startled, 

“Sam? Are you ok?”

“Yeah- yeah just um… just a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Sam got up and looked at Lou. She lie peacefully asleep, yet her sobbing echoed in his ears,

“N-no. No not now…”. He brushed her halo blonde hair away from her face with a smile that held far too much pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that was so heavy, but i mean this is a death stranding fic after all...  
> I’m gonna try at some deadman angst next chapter maybe? I think his insecurities are pretty relatable in some ways.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also a lot of the timeline in this is taken from fanon like in different fics. The headcanon for deadman’s age comes from the fic “handle with care” and also me headcanoning sam is in his early forties.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very much “time to skirt around our obvious mutual pining cause we’re both anxious and insecure and carrying our own baggage” hours

Deadman hummed while he cooked, sam watched him from the living room, feeding Lou. Sam could smell potatoes sautéing with onions. It felt like home.  
And that scared him.

‘I’m moving in with Lucy.’

‘Are you sure, sam? I mean…” Bridget trailed off, her fingers tightly wound together, ‘I just think it’s a bit unhealthy of you to be with her romantically.’

‘I’ll see another therapist, and besides… she…’ sam paused to think, ‘she gets me. She knows me.’

‘Sam-‘

‘I’m a grown man, I can make these decisions for myself-‘

‘Saman-‘ Bridget stopped herself. Her breath came in and out violently through her nose, like a bull waiting to charge.

Sam stared at her,  
‘The decision is final, Bridget.’

‘Sam-‘

‘No.’

‘At least call me mom…’

Sam stared at the carpet,   
‘No.’

‘Sam.’ She grabbed his arm. He shook her off,

‘Don’t touch me!’

‘I am your mother!’

Sam laughed wryly and shook his head, ‘I never had a mom…’

‘Sam…’

Amelia had talked to him on the beach a week after. She seemed just as hurt as Bridget had. 

‘You know I’ve always known you sam… as in YOU. Not…’

‘I know.’ Sam said flatly, ‘I just-...’

‘If Lucy is the one you love, I’ll respect that. Just… be careful. That’s all either of us want.’

‘Ok. You stay safe too.’

‘Of course, sam.’

Sam shook his head. Lou whined to be burped and he gently rubbed and patted her back as he walked into the kitchen, 

“Sorry I’m just sitting around here, the least I could do is help.”

“No, no..” Deadman waved him off, “you’re a guest here, make yourself at home.”

Sam hesitantly nodded, “ok.” 

Sam looked around the house, skimming through the book titles. Many of them were encyclopedias, science fiction, or history novels. Sam set Lou down in the crib to play with the stuffed cryptobiote that Fragile had given her. She said she’d taken up sewing to try to keep her joints well maintained. Sam picked up the book lying open on the coffee table.

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, also known as The Modern Prometheus. It was a Spanish translation but Sam could piece together enough of it to know.

“Hey, you’re reading Frankenstein?”

“Oh, yes.” Deadman turned to face him, “it’s just… well, you know.”

“Yeah…” sam had wanted to say something, he felt a little uneasy at the reading material, worried about Deadman’s self image,

“The real monster in that story isn’t the creature, you know. It’s his creator.” Deadman spoke as he returned to cooking, “he was abandoned, but he learned and grew on his own and became a genius… me, well I had help along the way.”

“Do you relate to the story?”

Deadman sighed and thought, then answered, “I relate to the loneliness of it.” Deadman turned off the stove and started plating what he’d made, sautéed potatoes and onions with tostones, or as close as he could get with green bananas instead of plantains,   
“granted I wasn’t abandoned in the German country-side,” he chuckled, “but… well it’s pretty lonely when most of what you could call siblings are either dead or braindead, and everyone else is just there to study you…. it’s part of why I became a coroner.” Deadman handed a plate to Sam, “the dead… they don’t judge. They just listen.”

Sam watched Deadman, and wondered about the skin of his hands under his gloves. He wanted to hold his hand, wanted to say something kind, something profound. He wanted to find the words to string together the feelings he felt into one conducive sentence, to put away any fears Deadman had, any loneliness.

“I’ve died a lot.” Was what sam ended up saying. He winced,

“Ah, yes, you sure have.” Deadman laughed, sounding nervous,

“I mean that- uh…” Sam gave a playful pretend punch, “I’m here to listen… buddy.”  
Good lord…

Deadman smiled all the same, “oh, I see… well then thank you, Sam. You’re one of the only people I feel confident to say that I am your friend, not just that you are mine and you tolerate me out of politeness.”

“Jeez dude, people suck…”

Deadman hummed, “a few, yeah…”

They ate together in silence for a bit, watching Lou figure out her own throwing strength with the plush she had. She crawled around her little enclosure too, almost as if she were trying to race herself. At some point though she tired herself out and sat and stared up at Sam and Deadman. She lifted a finger and pointed at Sam, then Deadman.

“Oh, she’s pointing now…” Sam said,

“They do that?”

“Yeah.” Sam said, as if he had any experience. He’d read up a lot, back with Lucy.

‘So, the… the fertilization treatment worked?’

“Yes sir, Mr. Strand-“

‘Bridges.’

‘Bridges. Right. We were able to take the genes from one of the eggs you had frozen before undergoing HRT and manipulated its structure into a viable sperm cell. One of which has successfully fertilized an egg provided by Lucy.’

‘I’m gonna be a dad…’ he’d said softly, squeezing Lucy’s hand,

‘We’re… we’re gonna be parents, Lucy.’ He turned to her and smiled.

Looking back, remembering, she was so excited, so happy…  
Then came the nightmares, of course.

“Do you… Do you think it’s…” Sam huffed in frustration, trying to find the proper words, “is it wrong that I named her Louise? After… after the child I lost?”

“I don’t think so.” Deadman chewed at the wooden fork he’d used to eat breakfast, the dents in the utensil indicating this was a common occurrence, “I think it’s just… a thing. You know?”

“Yeah…” sam sighed, “she’s such a good kid.”

“She is.” Deadman smiled, “I’m… I’m proud of you two, I only was involved for a short amount of time when she was in the pod, but I’m so proud of how far you’ve both come…”

“C’mon Deadman, You’ve been with us all the way, in your own way.” Sam took their empty dishes too the sink and started washing them, looking over his shoulder to keep an eye on Lou, “you kept her safe on a fu- a darn Battle Beach.”

“I was hiding-“

“So? It was still dangerous.”

Deadman was quiet for a moment before he spoke up, “thank you, sam.” His voice was pinched. Sam looked over and saw him crying,

“Woah, hey, hey, D-man, what’s up?” Sam rushed over, 

“I just-“ Deadman gasped, his broad shoulders shook, “I’ve never… I’ve never really been part of a family- never- I-“ he slowly exhaled, chewing at his bottom lip, “I thought myself not to care what other people thought, and in turn not to really care much about them, cause I thought I’d never be cared about, but-...”

“I- I care about you.”  
And there it was. Or at least close enough, sure as hell closer than ‘I’ve died a lot.’

Deadman smiled, Chiral teeth catching the warm lamp light, “I care about you.”

Lou made a happy little noise and Sam laughed and lifted her from the crib, “yeah, you too.” He said softly. Lou held Deadman’s pinky in her hand and smiled at him,

“Certainly got her approval.” Sam said,

Deadman laughed.

The rock didn't hit Sam’s stomach until Deadman’s eyes met his. Eyes so full of care and joy.

‘We’re gonna be parents, Lucy.’

Sam gave a curt nod and said, “I um… I should probably be going.”

“Oh- Um-“

“And y’know, you’ve got work and all…”

“Right, yes… of course.” Deadman got up and buzzed around the apartment, gathering things into a satchel and slinging it over his shoulder,

“I’ll um- I’ll… I’ll walk with you.”

Deadman gave a nod, “o-ok. Thank you.”

Sam tried to ignore the sinking feeling as he gingerly placed Lou into her carrier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal news: I GOT ACCEPTED INTO A SUMMER ACTING PROGRAM!  
> ME!  
> THEY SAW MY AUDITON AND HEARD MY INTERVIEW AND LIKED ME!  
> ME!!!  
> AAAAAAA
> 
> I feel like a king.  
> (I never thought they’d let me in, cause I’m trans but like... they did. Always try!)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is... kinda horny? And also very sad?  
> Deadman has some deep insecurities and those get worded in “internal monologue”esque fashion(ie, some mean things are said about deadman, but they’re his own insecurities and in no way how I think of him)  
> Also guest appearance from Malingen cause i would die for her.

The walk back to the hospital was filled with tense silence, Lou slept quietly in her carrier while Sam and Deadman walked. Rubber thud, vinyl click, thud, click, thud, click. Sam noticed Deadman was always moving somehow, fidgeting. Even as they walked he moved the satchel from one side to the other over and over, or readjusted something about his clothes. The leather of his gloves squeaked softly over the rhythm of their footfalls and Sam eyed his hands. So soft yet so broad, so strong. His own were strong too, but wiry, made for work and work alone. Sam imagined the skin of Deadman’s palms would be soft, lambskin under hide-leather, he imagined perfectly cared for nails and clean hands. A respite, an oasis.

Deadman caught him staring again, “ah, the gloves…” he said, “If you hadn’t noticed I have a tendency to chew things, I keep the gloves on so I don’t chew my nails too much, they also help with hiding some scars…”. Deadman made a face, “I’m sorry, I- I’ve been over-sharing.”

“No.” Sam said quickly, “no I uh… I like getting to know you, without the end of the world looming and all,”

That was only half true. The end of the world loomed all the same, in Sam’s mind anyway. It felt like a trick, a trap, like Amelie would come back and rain hellfire down again. Sam’s brain didn't hesitate to supply the image of Deadman and him once again in the garden, Lou playing in the grass, and suddenly they’re all swallowed by the tar, leaving only Sam. He scrambles to grab them, trying to hold Lou against his chest and grab hold of Deadman’s forearm, but they’re both wrenched away from him. He tries to save them but finds he can't move, chiral crystal encasing his legs, creeping up.

“Sam?” Deadman manages to pull him out of his imagination, “is it… was it about the dream?”

Sam clears his throat in an attempt to also clear his head, “yeah… kinda… I mean-“

“Sam, I think…” Deadman stopped walking to clean his glasses, then set them back on his face, blinking owlishly for a moment before sighing, “This is my opinion both as a doctor and as a friend, I think, perhaps, you should talk to someone… a professional.”

“Deadman-“

“It’s just an idea.” Deadman said quickly. They’d reached the hospital and Sam hadn’t even noticed until he heard the soft sound of leather on metal when deadman held the door handle,

“I’ll… think about it.”

“Ok. I’m sure John could give you a recommendation?”

“Maybe…”

Deadman regarded him, his mouth a tight line, then nodded and entered the building. Sam followed him in but split off to find the waiting room he’d talked with Fragile in.

He sat down, not finding much else to do. He read a book he’d found in there with Lou, she’d seemed to like the pictures, then he watched the news that idly droned on about the weather and new road projects on the television mounted on the wall. He wasn’t new to hospitals and they weren’t any more uncomfortable places than any from his youth. He stared into the carpet for an amount of time he couldn’t calculate, thinking of nothing. His head was encased in cotton and submerged in cold water.

“Hey Sam, you ok?” Sam looked up to see Lockne, or rather Malingen, giving him a worried look, “what’re you doing here?”

“Oh uh… I walked Deadman here, just… don't really have much else to do but wait for him to be done here, plus I mean there’s books and toys for Lou here so…”

“Gotcha.”

“You?”

“Waiting on Fragile, so… same as you I guess?”

Sam tensed a little, “uh-“

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed-“

“No it’s um… it’s fine. I mean we're not-... I didn’t…”

“I know Sam.”

“How’s Lockne?”

“She’s… same as ever, we’re getting along alright.” Malingen fiddled with a ring on her finger, “she’s in her room working on some calculations.”

“Room?”

“Oh, uh- yeah. Been calling it that… makes things more simple, and I mean that’s kinda what it’s like for us.”

“Ok, that’s kinda cool I guess.”

“Yep.”

Sam had forgotten how awkward both of them were in conversation, both used to someone else taking over he supposed, 

“So- You and fragile-“ sam started then winced, 

“Yeah,” Malingen laughed lightly, so Sam assumed it was alright, “she’s… so strong.”

“So are you. I mean, spending that long alone?”

“Same to you, man.”

Sam looked away quickly, “I like it, being alone.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah… yeah it’s um… safer.”

“Safer?”

Of course it was safer. It was safer in so many ways. No one around meant no one to take Lou away, no one to hurt her, no one to hurt or touch him, no one to get hurt because of him.

“Kinda…” he said,

“But- I mean…” Malingen smiled at him, like a teacher would to an anxious student, reassuringly, “is safer always better?”

“How do you mean?”

“Sometimes our fears… they make us miss out on beautiful things. Fragile’s scared that she’s gonna be gone and end up hurting me because of that… she tries to hide it but I can tell.”

Sam hummed, 

“But just because we’re both scared that our time might be cut short that doesn't mean we still don't try. Life, it finds a way, The fact we’re having this conversation should be evidence of that.”

“I just… if I let my guard down, what happens to Lou?” 

Mama’s face fell, her smile remained but it looked much sadder, she reached over and held Lou’s hand in her own for a bit before letting go,   
“You hope someone else, someone good, takes over.”

“Mama- Malingen,” They looked up to see Fragile, she didn't wear her usual porter uniform, rather a hoodie that looked a bit too big on her and jeans, the same leather gloves remained though. She held an orange prescription bottle in her hand, “I’ve got… something.” She squinted and read the small text on the bottle which read out a long and complicated name for the medication, “yeah, something. They said it worked on the blood samples they took so… hopefully.”

“Wow,” Malingen got up and held Fragile’s face, gently in her hand, “thats- thats good! I’m glad!’

“Yeah…” Fragile said, obviously trying to keep it together, “fancy seeing you here again, Sam. Seems like you almost live here now.”

“Just waiting on Deadman’s shift to be over.”

Malingen shot Fragile a short look and Fragile nodded, not before making a face of her own, “alright, want me to tell him you’re here?”

“He knows. Spent the night at his place.”

Another exchange of looks,

“Look, he was just helping me with Lou.” Sam said, defensively,

“Of course.” Fragile said, and meant it, “Sorry.”

Sam nodded,

“Well, I’m about ready to head out? Can’t stand these places…” Malingen said to Fragile,

“You don’t have to come-“

“I like being here for you.” She said,

“Oh-“ Fragile chuckled, a bit nervously, “thanks.”

Sam felt awkward, like a third wheel, “you guys have a good day.”

“You too,” Fragile said, picking up on the nerves radiating off of him.

Once they walked out, hand in hand, Sam sighed and started to pace. After about a minute or two of pacing he sighed and went to Deadman’s lab,

“Hey, it alright if I bother you?”

“You’re not a bother, but sure, come in.” Deadman was examining tissue samples once again,

“Just talked with Malingen. Fragile’s on a new medication?”

“She told me, seems hopeful.” Deadman paused to type something into his cufflink,

“You still wear that thing?”

“I still work for bridges, Sam. And now, I suppose, the American government. Can’t just go off the grid, now can I”

“I guess.” Sam rubbed the spot where it used to press into his wrist, almost as if he could felt the cold metal on him again, “I guess they’re convenient for communication… just not a fan of the surveillance and tracking.”

“Malingen and Lockne have been working on a civilian version, so I’ve heard. One that doesn't connect with Bridges HQ but you can still access the archives.”

“I’ll think about it…”

“Doing a lot of thinking these days, aren’t we all.”

“There’s a lot to think about.”

Deadman hummed, “yeah, somehow more than before.”

Living was different than surviving. Decisions in life didn’t have the benefit of the quick time reasoning Adrenalin gave, or the ability to just run from the choices. Living somehow made dying more scary, maybe cause there was time to think, and then over think.

Sam leaned on the counter, a hand on his other hip, and watched Deadman work. His big, gentle hands carefully placing a sliver of skin under a microscope, adjusting its settings. His lips would move as he studied the sample of flesh, talking to himself silently. Sam watched his lips. They were chapped, rough. The juxtaposition of the possible roughness and possible softness of Deadman was enough to make Sam’s head swim, make him wonder about what lie beneath the leather and latex and silk, what scars were there to be traced with kisses, what blank spots were there to be marked, and how would Deadman mark him back? A mesh of scars and stories together, shared air, shared secrets, shared sleep.

Sam was too busy staring to have noticed Deadman stealing glances back at him, too busy to see the way Deadman winced when he thought he was being too obvious. He wanted to dig his teeth into his nails, his fingers, his hands, every time he thought about Sam in a way that went beyond close friends. Punish himself for the selfish notion Sam could want him. Wanting, even a kiss, made him feel stabs of guilt, each scar on his body would burn. Wanting was… wrong, especially for him, in his mind’s eye. How dare he, someone, something, so unloveable, how dare he love? How monsterous of him, to yearn for a touch that may never come.

However true it was, that the thought that the feeling, the want, may be mutual, it was fogged. The truth showed itself to them, in a way plain as day, yet they pushed it aside with insecurities and fear. They danced, in this way, around each other. Yearning, wanting, stealing eyefulls and sighing in the inbetweens. Sam, eyes lingering on red latex and leather, fingers twitching at the sight of prosthetic teeth. Deadman, wanting desperately to heal invisible wounds with a kiss, breath catching when Sam moved with his near elegance.

“You’ve uh… you’ve been staring at that piece of tissue for a hot minute… you ok?”

“Oh! Um- yes, yes I’m fine.” Deadman said, shakily,

“Do you need somethi-“

“Water? Maybe? There’s… there’s a water fountain around the corner.” Deadman riffled through his satchel and pulled out a reusable water bottle, “if you- if you would?”

“Course.” Sam nodded and set off for the little delivery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam be like: god he’s hot, too bad loving me is terminal.  
> Deadman be like: he’s so kind and deserves so much love, to bad I’m ugly.
> 
> Sushi is very good and i wish I could have it more often considering I’m pescatarian.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy sorry about the hiatus.

The metal felt cold on Sam’s bare hands as it was filled. When he screwed back on the plastic cap the warmth felt almost burning to his cold hands, everything he touched feeling too hot. He rubbed his hands together, trying to slowly ease out of the chill. Lou reached for and hugged Sam’s wrist close to her, he couldn’t help but smile. 

Sam returned and handed the water bottle back to Deadman who seemed to have regained his composure,

“Thank you, sam.” He said, setting the bottle on the table and returning to work.

They continued in silence, Sam watching Deadman work and Deadman trying to work to pretend that little incident hadn’t happened. Deadman made sure his hands did not shake, though had he not been paying attention they likely would have. He really shouldn’t have let such a slip up happen, stealing glances like that was low and shameful. He’d thought he was better than that, better than to think he would even be allowed to want someone as good as Sam. He thought he knew his place.

But he felt he knew better for Sam, felt like he knew how to help, how to take care of him. 

Deadman silently considered how Sam had not only managed to bring a dead world back to life, but bring a dead man back too.

“My nightmare was about Amelie…” Sam interrupted Deadman’s thoughts,

“Oh… Sam-“

“She had… Lou. Or maybe it was me? I don't know… she had a baby, and she was carrying the baby away from me.” Sam reflexively brought a hand up to hold Lou closer where she lay fast asleep in her carrier, “I-... It was on my beach, like every time she’d talk to me growing up. I-“

“I remember your beach, or at least the water. It was so cold and dark…” 

“It boiled this time… still dark, still blue, but I was boiling alive… the water was tar… Higgs was there too and- no just Higgs.” Sam lied,

“What did he do?”

“Held me down, held me in the tar.”

Deadman grimaced, “thats-... may I?” He gestured to Sam’s hand. Sam nodded and he took it, “that’s awful Sam but you must remember, they’re both gone.”

‘He’s gone, Sam. You know that.’

‘No, Lucy, I dont.”

It had been before they wanted a baby, when they’d just moved in together.

‘You havent seen or heard from him in-‘

‘Twenty years, I know… just…. he could be anywhere, they all wear the same uniform, the same mask!’ Sam held himself, arms tightly wrapped around his torso, as he panicked,

‘Sam.’ Her voice was like honey. It somehow carried over the buzzing in his ears, like fluorescent lights. 

He’d stared up at unlit fluorescent lights, in the moment. Begging for them to turn on. Begging a god he slowly stopped believing in that someone would come in, turn the lights on, and save him. 

No one came.

‘Sam?’ She said, more imploringly,

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m here… he can’t- he can’t hurt you when I’m here.’ Maybe she was right. Sam idly wondered what would have happened if Lucy, as she was now, would have barged in. He’d probably have leapt back, off of Sam, probably would have hastily made an excuse or an explanation. Lucy wouldn’t have any of it. She was a human lie detector. Nothing could be hidden from her, and if she wanted something, wanted to know something, she got it.

‘O-ok.’ Sam had liked that. She had force, she had silent power, but she was kind with it. She was a benevolent power. Not sick and predatory like he had been, so much evil in one contained moment, one contained memory.

‘I’ll keep you safe,’ she waited for permission before cradling his face in her hands,

‘Promise?’ He pleaded

“Promise.’  
She sealed his assurance, made him feel safe, made him feel like he’d be safe and sound and happy forever. She told him it would be ok.

She lied.

“I- I know that… I heard the shot that went through his head. And I personally severed her ties but that doesn't mean that their fingerprints aren’t in my brain.”

When he heard the gunshot from far away Sam had instinctively flinched, the hair on the back of his neck rising in worry. Fear of a void out so ingrained in his mind that even on the beach, where there were no void outs because it was a void, he worried.

Sam had had a vision before he cut ties with Amelie, images of her rising from the water, blood dripping from her eyes, and the world behind him being consumed by flame. And she had looked him dead in the eye as he killed everyone he knew and loved and had learned to love. 

As she burnt Lou up, and every little moment with her.

Deadman’s eyes swept over the handprint marks on Sam’s body, “that’s ok. But remember they’re just nightmares. The death stranding is over. We survived.” Deadman squeezed his hands. He would not tell Samhow surviving made his gifted heart pinch with guilt. Why had he lived? Why did he survive? Why not others? What merit did he have that qualified him to live more than anyone else?

But that wasn’t a new feeling for Deadman. In The Lab growing up he’d see his brothers and sisters grow then slowly degrade or simply never live at all and he wondered why he was the one who survived. What god or force of nature decided he was more worthy of breath? After that he made a conscious effort to justify his survival, trying to help people and progress science as much as he could. Being built from the donations of the dead he owed them his respect, his study.

Sam stared down at his hands, wrapped in Deadman’s. Callous on smooth leather.

Deadman’s hands were so warm, juxtaposing his namesake. They soothed the cold ache that often gripped Sam’s knuckles. Sam recalled how their hands brushed beneath the battlefield when passing Lou over. At the time it had been odd. A very aggressively neutral feeling, both bad and good overwhelming. His phobia spiked when he’d felt their covered hands near each other, but the yearning human nature carried, the yearning for contact, was nearly equal.

“It ended with a void out.”

“Is that why you sat up so violently?”

“Probably.” Sam said. Part of him wanted to pull his hands back, unsure about whether Deadman meant to maintain the contact or if he was making things awkward and weird. Sam had always been bad at reading ques from people, It had gotten him into a scratch or two that was for sure. Suddenly he worried that Deadman may have just offered to help out of politeness but didn't really want him to accept the invitation. Like offering to help when you thought someone would not accept help so you’d feel better about yourself.

But Deadman wouldn’t do that.

No Deadman was good. Deadman was kind. He was curious and watchful and a bit odd at times but in a charming and eccentric way. Deadman had never given Sam any reason to think he’d do that to him.

So why did the fear still remain?

“Um-“. Sam said,

“Oh, sorry.” Deadman moved to pull his hands back,

“No I mean… if you want to stay like this, we can…”

“I thought you-“

“I don't mind.” Quite the opposite actually, he liked it.

“I-“ Deadman pulled his hands back and smoothed his Lab Uniform. Sam was caught by it, black leather sweeping across bright red latex. “I- um- I have work to do.” Deadman declared and returned to his workspace.

“Right… I’ll just- uh…”

“You can stay…” Sam didn't hear the hope in Deadman’s voice, even as it dripped from each letter.

“Ok…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this was really short, I havent been feeling the best(imposter syndrome his flaring up sooner than I thought about my getting accepted into that thing...)
> 
> (Also yeehaw I’m so tired.)
> 
> Also you can follow me on twitter @rararatatouille (its nsfw at times, my likes are and at times my retweets)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, tw for vomiting, panic attacks, and vague descriptions of non-con(sam talks about what happened.)

Silence filled the gaps once again until Deadman cleaned up his workspace and said, “Lunch?”

Sam nodded and followed him.

“There’s a theory,” Deadman gestured with his fork, “that’s going around, that things such as the Death Stranding have happened before.”

“Well yeah, Heartman showed me those photos of those perfectly preserved bodies with umbilical cords, BT evidence.”

“Not just that, instances where a Death Stranding failed.”

“How do you mean?”

“Do you know the old biblical story about the flood?”

“Yeah,”

“Well, many cultures, not just the abrahamic religions, have a flood story, or some kind of catastrophe. An instance where the population dropped and all life on earth was trapped in one small place.”

Sam nodded,

“What if those stories come from fact?”

“So you’re saying there may have already been a Death Stranding in human history?”

“The toba catastrophe maybe? This is a theory an anthropologist here at bridges has. He suggests that the Toba catastrophe, which rendered the Human population as low as one thousand people, was actually a near extinction event, but life prevailed.” Deadman smiled.

“Huh.” Sam would kill to keep Deadman’s smile intact.

“Now, he also suggests there was an extinction entity then too, but there was also what he calls a guard entity, meant to sort of be like life’s last chance.”

Sam paused, “so… like… like me?”

“I suppose so.”

“So what, the dinosaurs had a Sam?”

Deadman chuckled, “well then again it’s just a theory…”

“I guess…”. 

But if it had happened before, with humans, and it failed once before he stopped… then it was bound to happen again, wasn’t it? What if this dance between life and death was only going to keep going? What if Lou was next? What if she had to fight to save the world? His little girl. Would she go through what he went through? Sam’s skin burned, his hair standing on end. It felt like someone gripping his arm but all over. A tight vice around his chest. He couldn’t breath or think clearly. All it was was fear.

‘Sam, it all burned.’

‘Lucy, hey, c’mon, you know it was just a nightmare.’

‘It was all burnt up, everything. Lou was screaming, he was burning. Everything was burning.’ Lucy held her swollen belly and screamed,

‘Lucy… you’re scaring me.’ Sam tried to hold her but Lucy swung her arm away from him.

‘You should be afraid.’ She glared at him, something gone from her eyes. The gleam of power, of strength.  
She was probably already dead before she took the shot later that week.

“Sam?” 

“Oh- uh- yeah… interesting.”

“Sam, you're spacing out more and more like this…. have you talked to a professional yet like I asked?”

“I-“ he hadn’t, “I’ve been meaning to.” He wasn’t.

“Well… you’re worrying me. I’m not a psychiatrist but I’m still a doctor and you seem to be showing many symptoms of trauma or stress related problems.”

“I- I don't need a shrink right now, Deadman, I need…”

“What do you need, sam?”

“I- I need to-“ Sam looked around. He hadn’t noticed the guards before, how they stood ever vigilant in the hospitals, on the streets, in the halls of the capitol building. Faceless. Hidden.  
Anonymous. They were everywhere.  
He could be anywhere.  
“I need-“

“Sam, please breathe,”

“Where is he?” Sam was muttering to himself,

“Who?”

“He could be any of them.”

“I think we should leave-“

“He’d be old… he’d be old and- how tall was he? Fuck-“

“Sam you’re… you’re drawing eyes.”

“Deadman, Deadman this is-“

“We’re going home.” Deadman said, and helped Sam out of his chair. Sam was limp, moving only slightly with the rest being Deadman’s direction. Deadman took the carrier off of Sam’s chest and placed it on himself, carrying Lou. Sam’s breathing didn't slow until they were outside, where he leaned over a garbage can and threw up,

“Sam. Please tell me what just happened.” Deadman swayed back and forth, trying to calm Lou down,

“I don’t-“

“We’re talking about this.”

“I-... can we- can we do this at home?”

“Fine.”

Sam only realized they’d made it to Deadman’s home when he heard a cup of tea set in front of him on the table, Lou was in the little play pen they’d constructed for her the night before, staring at him.

“Tell me what’s going on. Please.”

“It’s bad.”

“Sam, look me in the eye and tell me you seriously think I can’t stomach it.”

He couldn’t.

“It was… a long time ago.”

Deadman nodded.

And Sam told him everything. It had been a few weeks after he’d told Bridget his name and she’d helped him cut his hair, they’d printed new clothes for him and he felt on top of the world, happy as a thirteen year old could be. But an alarm had sounded, someone had taken a gun from a guard in the distribution center and had people hostage, the entire city was under lock down. He’d been separated from Bridget, he was in class before the lock down. He wanted to find her, but was grabbed by a guard before he could, dragged into a closet and told to keep his mouth shut because,

‘There’s monsters around, so hide.’

The only monsters were in the distrocenter and locked in with Sam. The hands on him burned, he already didn’t like people touching him much because he was over sensitive with the DOOMs and all, but the hands on him made it worse. Fear and pain covering his skin and soaking his brain after that. He’d never seen his face, never knew his name, only heard his voice and felt him,

‘Such a pretty little thing. Perfect little toy.’

He wanted to scream, wanted to throw up, but he was so terrified he would get himself killed by doing that, and in turn get everyone killed in the void out that would follow. After a few minutes he swallowed the fear, swallowed all the pain inside. He didn’t move save for the force of the guard’s thrusting. And the rest of that day, that week? His silence was chocked up to be just nerves from the attack. Bridget never asked where he’d been. Everyone assumed things would pass and so life went on, and he disappeared.

No one looked for him.

“Oh sam…” Deadman’s face pinched with pain,

“Told you it was bad.” Sam felt like he would pass out at any moment. He was glad Lou didn’t understand any of what he’d said, he didn’t want her to ever have to know about any of that.

“Is that… is that why you panicked in the cafeteria?” 

“Yeah… I- I didn’t notice all the guards before… I should have. Slip up.”

“Sam, You think he’d still be with the guards if-“

“No one found me!” Sam stood up, his fists curled tightly, “no one came looking!”

“Sam-“

“No!” Sam began to pace like a caged tiger, “he- he got away with it. He got off and he got off.” Sam slammed the heel of his hand against his shoulder, “I should’ve screamed, damn it! I should’ve- I should’ve take his gun and-“

“And caused a void out?” Deadman stood up now, “Sam you were a child! A scared child!”

“I was Bridget fucking Strand’s son!” Sam snapped, “How dare he- how… I-...” Sam curled in on himself, shaking,

“Monsters don't think. Don't have consciousness.” Deadman stood close to sam, careful not to touch.

“I should’ve hurt him back.”

“Your responsibility shouldn’t be to dole out punishment. Your responsibility is to heal”

Sam looked at Deadman, at his scarred forehead. He still wore his hospital uniform. Sam pressed his face against the sleek red latex covering his shoulder, wrapping his arms around him as much as he could,

“I’m tired of this,”

“I know…” Deadman rubbed his back,

“Lucy… she was the only other person who knew… when you talked about memory interference… I got so scared one day Lou would- would see it. I don’t want that for her. I’d die for her, she’s my little girl…”

“I know… but I’m not going to let that happen. I’m never going to let anyone put you in such a place.”

Sam looked up at Deadman,

“I promise you.”

“Lucy promised…”

Deadman sighed, “I won't leave you, not unless you ask me to.”

“Thanks… I-... thank you.”

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this being so late, a lot has happened  
> I got into a college with a 21% acceptance rate which is INSANE and I’m very excited. Lots of good has been happening for me which feels weird and stuff. I’m sorta scared ill fall into a deep depression but my therapist says that i fall into those because i worry about a relapse whenever I’m happy so eh.  
> Anyways yeah i am fully projecting onto both sam and deadman and this is a project of self love.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s really dialog heavy and short, sorry. Quarantine has been fucking up my mental state cause I’m a very social person.

Sam sighed, “you’re still in your lab uniform…” sam ran his hands over the red latex.

“Oh- Maybe I should change-“

“No.” Sam interrupted, “no I… I like it.” 

“Alright.”

“It’s like, like it’s not too much. But it’s also not too little. It’s just enough. Not skin to skin, but almost.” Sam rambled. His shoulders sagged and his joints felt loose. He was so exhausted in the wake of his panic. He leaned most of his weight on Deadman, who easily could handle it.

“I think so too, a bit I mean. I don't like my skin showing.” Deadman shifted his weight back and forth, not knowing if the hug was meant to continue, “Can’t stand hot weather, it doesn't help that sometimes the humidity makes my scars feel weird.”

Sam hummed, “Cold weather means lots of layers. I mean I certainly don't miss the mountain cold, but maybe a snow day in a warm cabin would be nice…”. He mused.

Deadman laughed softly, “that damn cabin…. you know it had a wood burning stove and oven? Very old fashioned. I had my winter coat hung by the open heart of the stove before the super cell hit… oh- sam- wait-“ deadman laughed, louder and fuller that time, “I completely forgot that coat! It’s probably gone.”

“Whole cabin’s gone.” Sam said. Lou fussed in her play pen and Sam parted from their embrace to check on her, “do you remember the cabin?” Sam cooed to her,

“She liked how the fire looked.” Deadman said,

“Too curious for her own good, sometimes…”

“I don't know where she gets it…” Deadman smiled. Sam looked at him,

“I think I know.” Sam lifted her from the pen and held her, “I’m not the only one she’s learning from around here.”

“Oh- I hardly think i was with her long enough to make that much of a lasting impact.”

“Deadman.” Sam gave him a look, “you saved her, just as much as i did. I’d… I’d probably not have come back from the incinerator if you hadn’t suggested I get her out of the pod.”

“You would’ve figured something out-“

“No. And I wouldn’t have walked out of there either…”. Sam’s face grew solemn, his lips pressed together in a fine line. Lou fussed again and sam gave her a little bounce, “I think she’s hungry… I should- there should be a bottle of formula in one of the pockets on the carrier. If you could-“

“Yes of course.” Deadman had forgotten he still had it on. He handed Sam the bottle and took the carrier off, setting it down on the couch.

“She’s a fighter though…. always has been.”

Deadman watched sam feed Lou, watched his worn and gentle hands moving,   
“I know where she gets it.” He said.

Sam set the bottle down and moved to burp Lou,

“You’re a natural at this, Sam.”

“Oh, uh… yeah. I- I was- Lucy and I were really-“ Sam’s hand trembled a little, “really excited to have a kid, y’know?”

Deadman hadn’t meant to touch on a soft spot, he meant it as a compliment.

“Y’know for a while… for a while I was scared I wouldn’t be a good father.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah… I thought, what kind of dad can’t hold his kid?” Sam swayed with Lou in his arms, “and I mean, for a while I thought I’d never be able to have kids… I- I get some guys can handle… y’know, carrying the kid on their own… but- and I mean, haveing a hole in your belly that’s a fourth of your size certainly messes with your uterus I assume.”

“Wait what?”

“Oh, yeah… I thought you knew. I got shot as a kid.” Sam set Lou down in her crib and sat on the couch beside it. Sam lifted his shirt to show the cross shaped scar across his stomach, “it’s… it’s a really long story.”

“You’ve got a lot of long stories, sam…” Deadman sat beside him, “simplicity has never sounded better.”

Sam laughed, “yeah… simple sounds good.”

“I’m… I’m sorry if you felt like you had to come here. I know you wanted to be alone for a while, have nothing to do with bridges. Now it seems almost everybody’s back with so much going on.”

“I guess. I mean it’s always been like this.”

“But it’s not the end of the world anymore.” Deadman frowned, his fingers fiddling with the seams in his gloves,

“Still feels like it is…”

Sam looked at Deadman, he looked at how the years had worn him more than he’d lived them. Sam noticed though, his eyes still carried a shine of curiosity. Wonder. Then Sam saw his own reflected in Deadman’s glasses. Sam’s eyes fit the picture of a worn man more so than Deadman’s. Sam noticed other things too. An achne scar under Deadman’s facial hair on his cheek, he must have picked at his face too much before. He noticed how the skin on Deadman’s bottom lip was worn and bleeding, likely from worried chewing. The scar on his forehead indicated nearly sixty stitches. His hair where his beard met the hair on his head looked freshly cut, maybe he touched it up while trimming his beard.

“It doesn’t have to.”

“What?”

“It doesn't have to feel like the end of the world. It’s the start.” Deadman smiled. Sam wondered if Deadman meant to show his teeth whenever he smiled, or if that was just how he smiled.

“I was shot right after I was born technically.”

“Jesus Christ!”

“I came back… it was John. But really it was Amelie. Or maybe Bridget?”

“Oh.”

“It’s not completely my story to tell… it’s how my dad died.”

“I see.”

“He tried to protect me.”

“How do you know?”

“When I was on the beach, cliff was there. He showed me what happened. He-“ Sam didn’t remember when he started crying, “He said he was proud of the man I’d become.”

“Well, that’s wonderful.”

“Yeah…”

“My… I suppose I could call her mother, she told me for a long time I was special and that she was proud of me. But…” Deadman winced, trying to figure out how to word his thoughts, “I didn’t understand why. All I’d done was survived and developed slightly above average. I just learned to walk and talk sooner than she’d expected, than with her other trials. I didn’t see how that was special.”

“You are special, Deadman.”

“I don't see how.”

“You got me to come back.” Sam squeezed his shoulder, “two presidents couldn’t do that, y’know.”

“Yes, well…”

“Hey, back there, when I was freaking out. You called this place home.”

“Well yeah, this is my home.”

“You said it like it was mine, too.”

Deadman looked at the floor, seemingly suddenly invested in the carpet’s threading, “I mean… it can be, if you’d like.”

Sam smiled, “fine by me if it’s fine by Lou…. I think she’s missed you.”

“I’ve missed you both.”

Sam thought of the time’s he’d dreamed he’d wake up back on the beach. Wake up and realize Deadman and Lou had never brought him back.

“I missed you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it’s important i let everyone know, right now, that I don’t know anything about how babies work.


	10. Chapter 10

Deadman smiled, “well. Today has been exhausting and it’s only…” he checked his watch, “two P.M, how about something relaxing?” Deadman walked to the kitchen, “do you like your hot chocolate sweet or spicy?”

“Sweet please.” Sam called to the kitchen. He watched Lou in the crib, she’d fallen asleep. “What’d’ya say, Louise? This our place?” She stirred in her sleep, sam smiled, 

“I never knew my real father, Louise.” He spoke to Lou, but partially to himself, “I guess you never will either technically, know your real dad, I mean... But I hope I’m a good enough stand in. It’s funny, and sad, but John was the closest I had to a father I guess. Bridget was… busy, a lot. So was John but… he cared more.”

All those afternoons spent in Die-Hardman’s office, watching him with wide eyes as he lead an entire company from one room. He always let Sam watch, and explained things with patience when Sam had questions.

“He probably cared so much because he knew my dad, loved him. I didn’t know your dad, or your mom. Maybe deadman knew her, or at least had seen her, when he was recalibrating your pod.”

Lou cooed softly, her little fists twitching in her sleep,

“He taught me so much, Die-hardman. He taught me history, how to draw. Taught me stuff Bridget probably was against. He taught me to make firecrackers… flash powder and cigarette paper. He always looked so sad when he took out that old box of cigarette rolling paper. I asked him why once. He seemed to look even sadder when I asked, his eyes were so sad.”

‘What’s wrong, Die-Hardman?’ Sam watched Die-Hardman run his hands over the old worn box of cigarette paper.

‘Oh, just remembering something…’ Die-Hardman laughed. Sam had never heard someone sound so sad when they laughed before.

‘Remembering what?’

‘Mistakes.’

‘Yeah, smoking is bad for you.’

Die-Hardman had laughed at that, ‘it sure is, alright, now remember what I said about these…’

“I realize now… i realize now it was probably guilt too… he told me to never use the firecrackers inside the buildings, always outside and only one at a time. ‘Don’t go and get yourself hurt’ he’d tell me. Maybe I'll teach you how to make firecrackers one day…”

“Explosives?” Deadman asked as he walked into the room, handing Sam a mug.

Sam grinned, “just small ones. Firecrackers.”

Deadman hummed and blew on his mug, “certainly later I hope.”

“Nah,” Sam joked, “thought I’d teach her arson, then how to walk.”

Deadman’s laugh was the loveliest sound Sam had heard in a long time. The hot chocolate was perfect, and warmed him from the inside out.

“Thank you for this, again…” Sam said, “for everything, really.”

“Of course, Sam. You can ask me for anything you need…”

Sam nodded, his smile wilted for a moment, “what… what would you have done if you didn’t find me? On the beach.”

Deadman froze mid-sip, “Sam…”

“Just curious.”

“I would have kept searching. For however long I had.”

“What about Lou?”

“I’d have taken care of her.”

“What about when… when she-“

“Sam… none of that happened. We’re all here, safe.”

“But what would you have done?”

Deadman sighed, “there wouldn’t have been anything left to do. I don't think I’d have been able to go to the incinerator. I wouldn’t have been able to take her out of the pod…” Deadman gripped his mug, “I don’t think… if both of you hadn’t made it… none of us would have.”

“Deadman…”

“But that didn’t happen. We’re here.” Deadman smiled, “drink your cocoa before it gets cold…”

Sam nodded,

“And who knows, maybe we all would have found eachother in the end… all our tethers, they’re connected. I never had a beach but… but when I found you on yours it felt like I was welcome there.”

“You’re… yeah, yeah that makes sense.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Chai_destiny for inspiring the hot chocolate bit and getting me out of the writers block for this damn thing.
> 
> Also finally the title is in the fic, yay...  
> (I forgot why I named this fic the name it has but sssshhhh dont tell anyone.)


End file.
